


Ember to Ember Timestamp Requests

by AnnaFugazzi



Series: Volunteers [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaFugazzi/pseuds/AnnaFugazzi
Summary: Wrote this note waaaaay back when I first posted this pic on livejournal:The format I chose for this fic had very strict limits. Each chapter had to take place over one day, one day per month, with only one point of view per chapter (3 Draco, 3 Harry, 6 Other Characters), and every chapter had to be 5,000 words. There were a lot of reasons I put those constraints on myself, and I'm glad I did because it's been a highly educational writing experience.However. Doing this closed off many possibilties, such as scenes that couldn't happen on the same day but might be pretty important, or missing points of view that could shed a lot of light on what was going on in the background, or in the main character's heads. I really wish, for example, that I'd been able to find some way of showing Draco's interrogation under Veritaserum.My point - and I do have one - is that if there's anything I've missed that you might have liked to see, please try to remember what it was. After I'm done posting the story I will make an Ember to Ember DVD-Extras Request post. You can tell me what you missed on that post. Please don't tell me beforehand, because I'm a ginormous twit with the memory and organizational skills of a goldfish, so it'll get promptly lost. I do not guarantee to write every request I get - I've still got one pinch-hit, three WiPs, and two TimeStamp meme requests sitting on my hard drive, all of which I deeply hope to post some day and all of whom periodically poke at me and suck me in. However, I promise to at least read the requests over, and consider them, and give each one a fair try :)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Volunteers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711579
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Veritaserum, August 5

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this note waaaaay back when I first posted this pic on livejournal:
> 
> _The format I chose for this fic had very strict limits. Each chapter had to take place over one day, one day per month, with only one point of view per chapter (3 Draco, 3 Harry, 6 Other Characters), and every chapter had to be 5,000 words. There were a lot of reasons I put those constraints on myself, and I'm glad I did because it's been a highly educational writing experience._
> 
> _However. Doing this closed off many possibilties, such as scenes that couldn't happen on the same day but might be pretty important, or missing points of view that could shed a lot of light on what was going on in the background, or in the main character's heads. I really wish, for example, that I'd been able to find some way of showing Draco's interrogation under Veritaserum._
> 
> _My point - and I do have one - is that if there's anything I've missed that you might have liked to see, please try to remember what it was. After I'm done posting the story I will make an Ember to Ember DVD-Extras Request post. You can tell me what you missed on that post. Please don't tell me beforehand, because I'm a ginormous twit with the memory and organizational skills of a goldfish, so it'll get promptly lost. I do not guarantee to write every request I get - I've still got one pinch-hit, three WiPs, and two TimeStamp meme requests sitting on my hard drive, all of which I deeply hope to post some day and all of whom periodically poke at me and suck me in. However, I promise to at least read the requests over, and consider them, and give each one a fair try :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is DVD Extra for scrtkpr, frantic_mice, tree00faery, and jessiflash. Because scrtkpr asked for "Draco's interview under Veritaserum, DYING to see that." And the rest said ditto :)
> 
> This bit takes place the day Draco was arrested, when the four of them went to Brigid's Cross, the Dublin equivalent of Diagon Alley.
> 
> Hope you like it!

**August 5, 2007**

"State your name for the record."

"Draco Scorpius Malfoy"

"Date of birth?"

"June 5, 1980."

"Do you know why you were arrested?"

"Yes."

"Tell us for the record."

"I performed a restricted spell in violation of my parole conditions."

"Which spell?"

"Obliviate."

The Auror questioning Draco glanced at the parchment before him and nodded, apparently satisfied that his Quick-Quotes Quill was recording accurately. He nodded at the woman next to him. She leaned forward, her face poking out of the dimness of the Aurors' side of the table, drew a sheet of parchment closer to the overly bright candles near Draco, and skimmed it briefly. Draco kept his breathing even, taking the opportunity to steady himself, reminding himself not to let himself get overwhelmed by the feeling of being utterly exposed, cuffed to a chair and blinking in bright light as his opponents watched him from the dim darkness.

Hard not to get overwhelmed, though. He felt naked, despite - or maybe because of - the detainee uniform he now wore. Unable to move, to see clearly, to choose what to say or not say. They could ask him anything, and he could do nothing but answer.

It was best to be numb, Draco reminded himself. Don't feel sorrow over what had just happened, don't feel anger or resentment at the way you're being treated.

And above all, don't feel fear.

You're not going to Azkaban. Even if you do, it may not be for long. You Obliviated two people who were being hostile; you didn't start it, you didn't hurt them, you've done nothing wrong other than the Obliviate, and you have Harry on your side.

"Why did you perform the spell?" asked the second Auror.

"Because the people I performed it on were going to tell other wizards about my son."

"And why did you no' want them to do that?"

"Because I didn't want him to get hurt by being associated with me. And I didn't want him to find out about my past."

"What part o' your past?"

"My actions during the war. My family, my time in Azkaban."

"Why doesn't he know any of that?"

"Because I haven't told him about it."

"Why not?"

"He's only five years old. He's too young to understand."

"And keepin' yer secrets from him was worth risking going to jail again?" asked Auror One.

"No. But that wasn't the main reason I did it. I mostly did it to protect him."

There was a slight rustle among the five Aurors sitting across the table from Draco, and Draco felt a small spark of unexpected relief. It was unnerving sometimes, the things that emerged under Veritaserum; things you hadn't even realized were true before they came tumbling out. But sometimes you could be pleasantly surprised. And he had to admit that, much like the Aurors across the table from him, he'd suspected his own motivations for Obliviating the couple at Brigid's Cross a few hours ago had been centered more on concern for himself than for Ben.

"What d'you mean, protect him?" asked Auror Two.

"I don't want anybody to know I'm his father. I don't want people to judge him because of his association with me."

The second Auror opened her mouth but the first Auror touched her arm and shook his head, showing her something written on one of the parchments before him, and she sat back.

So, Auror One appeared to be higher in rank than Auror Two. The other three, he wasn't sure about, but so far nobody here seemed to outrank Auror One. He glanced at the other three as they stared at him while Aurors One and Two had a quick conference.

"Why was Harry Potter there?" asked Auror One, turning back to him.

"We're friends. Our children are friends."

"Yes, we noticed," said Auror Two dryly. "Your e-mails have become more frequent."

"When did ye become friends?" asked Auror One.

"When we volunteered to liaison for Beltane at Uisneach Hill."

"Ye didna waste time sucking up to him," said one of the previously silent three other Aurors, a slightly overweight woman. She gave Draco a cynical half-smile. "We've all been waiting for you to start flaunting it."

"How would you characterize the relationship between you and Mr. Potter?" asked Auror One, stifling a yawn.

"We're a couple."

There was a sudden, ringing silence.

"I'm sorry, what?" Auror One finally asked.

"We're romantically involved."

A rustle went through the group.

"What... the... hell?" said the overweight Auror.

"You're... as in, you're sleepin' with him?" asked Auror One, his eyes boring into Draco's.

"Yes."

"With Harry Potter," he said flatly.

"Yes," Draco said, and had to suppress the urge to laugh at the horrified looks on all of their faces. Despite the deadly seriousness of the situation, it was rather gratifying to be able to throw them all off so completely.

"Bloody hell," muttered an Auror with a slightly receding hairline.

"Bloody hell!" echoed the overweight Auror.

"Why didn't we know this?" Auror Two asked, leaning forward and scowling. "We've been monitoring you-"

"Because I didn't want anybody to know."

"You knew you'd have to tell us at yer next questioning," she pointed out.

"Yes."

"Did Potter know that?"

"No."

"How lovely," sneered the Auror with the receding hairline. "Were you going to surprise him?"

"I was trying to figure out how to tell him."

"Figured that'd be the death-knell of yer little affair, didn't ye? He'd break up with you in a heartbeat."

"No."

"What?" asked Auror Two.

"No, he wouldn't."

"You don't think he'd be wee bit shy about being publicly associated with the likes of you?"

"No, not really," said Draco, once again feeling a small spark of amusement at their baffled expressions.

"He's no' exactly been shouting it from the rooftops, has he?" Auror Two pointed out.

"I asked him not to."

There was another small rustle of disbelief among the Aurors.

"You asked him not-"

"Bloody hell, I dinna believe this-"

"All right, stop there," said Auror One abruptly, standing up. "We're flyin' blind here. We'll get the boss, let him know what's going on, reconvene once we've got our act together. And get more Veritaserum." He headed out the door, motioning the others to follow him. "Flint, you stay behind," he said to the only Auror who hadn't spoken up yet.

"It's got to be some sort of bloody joke-" said one of the others as they started to file out.

Flint stared at Draco, his expression unreadable in the dimness of his side of the table.

Draco closed his eyes and breathed deeply, not sure whether to be grateful for the respite from their questions, or anxious that now he'd have no distraction from the dark thoughts that immediately surfaced as the door closed.

What would happen to Ben? Where was Ben now? With Kara? With Harry? It felt like about three hours since he'd been arrested. Who was taking care of Ben? What had they told him about where Draco had gone?

And who was going to take care of him until Draco came back? Would Kara take to fobbing him off on her girlfriends again? The women all seemed to see Ben as a mascot, and Kara was a good mother - when she had the time - but Ben needed Draco. He _needed_ that connection to his dad, needed that connection to magic. What would happen to him without it?

How long was he going to be away from Draco?

He fought back the thought being away from Ben for a month. Two months. Six. A year. Missing irreplaceable time from his son's life. Coming out to find that Ben didn't need Draco any more, that he'd been replaced, that Draco didn't know what books Ben liked or what his teachers thought of him or what food he'd become fond of or what Ben's favourite show on the telly was-

How long would he go, missing Ben? Missing Harry, missing Alec, and even Kara? Who would wake Harry up at night when he had nightmares? Who would make music with Alec? Who would hold Draco when he woke up from a nightmare of Azkaban, only to find the nightmare had become real again?

And what if he never got out again? What if-

No. He wasn't going back to Azkaban. He had to believe that. He wasn't, he wasn't. And even if he was, he'd be out soon.

He kept his eyes closed, breathing steadily, concentrating on Ben and Harry and Alec and Kara. Holding his fears at bay with his memories, precious and warm, and all his own. Memories that reminded him that he was still a human being. That he wasn't just a thing to be questioned, a body to be locked away, but a person, worthy of caring and affection, worthy of respect and loyalty - all of which he had earned on his own, with no name or family or connections to bestow them upon him automatically.

Abruptly, Flint broke the silence.

"How long have you been with Potter?"

"Since May," said Draco, startled.

"Three months. And you kept it quiet," he said conversationally. "You lying little shit."

Draco kept his face impassive. "I wasn't lying about anything. I just wasn't volunteering information."

"Letter of the law, Malfoy. You know you need to keep us informed about any major changes in your life."

"I knew it would come out eventually, at my next interrogation."

"Don't try to-"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong. I'm allowed to date."

"You're dating Harry Potter. The darling of the wizarding world." He shook his head. "Fuck, we all thought it was just a ploy, getting your kids to be friends. Teaching your kid how to get in with the right sort of people."

"He's not like that," said Draco, stung.

Flint frowned in puzzlement. "Potter? Not the right sort?"

"No, my son. He's not like that. He wouldn't know how to try to - not to mention he's barely five years old. What did you think I was going to teach him?"

"I'll ask the questions here-"

"Are you even supposed to be questioning me?"

Flint smiled humourlessly at him. "Who's going to know I did?"

"Everyone, if I tell them."

"Will you?"

Draco blew out his breath. "No." _God_ , no. The last thing he needed to do was piss off any Aurors, or get them arguing amongst themselves.

"Good." Flint smiled again. "So. What's it like, going out with the Saviour of the Wizarding World?"

"Good."

"Yeah? Who's the girl?"

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Who gets fucked?" asked Flint, and smirked as Draco drew in his breath in shock.

"He does," Draco said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Flint's eyebrows went up. "Harry Potter gets it up the arse from you?"

"Yes," Draco said, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Flint's face.

"He ever blow you?"

"Yes."

"Is he good at it?"

"Yes."

"You ever blow him?"

"Yes."

"You enjoy that?"

"Yes." Draco looked away, humiliation flooding him as Flint's smirk grew.

"What do you like about it?"

"The sounds he makes. How he moves."

"Do you let him come in your mouth?"

And there was no respite. No way out of this; all he could do was hope the others came back before too long. "Yes."

"Swallow?"

"Yes."

"Like the taste, do you?"

"Not really."

"Why do it, then?"

"I like it when he does it for me."

Flint nodded. He wasn't being deliberately malicious, Draco realized. He was just bored, and pleased to pass the time by making Draco squirm. He was probably the lowest ranked Auror of the group, angry at being left behind to babysit Draco while the others discussed strategy, and wanted to throw Draco's own powerlessness in his face. As if Draco could possibly forget, handcuffed and overdosed on Veritaserum, blinking at the bright lights that hurt his eyes, as his questioners sat in near-darkness.

"So did you teach him how?" Flint asked, and Draco looked at him questioningly. "Potter. Did you teach him how to suck you?"

"He figured it out."

"Did his wife ever blow him?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you about her? About what they did in bed?"

"No."

"Then how d'you know she did?"

"He never said she didn't."

"And does he like it when you-"

The door suddenly opened and the other Aurors came back in, joined by two more people in Ministry insignia.

"All right," said Auror One to Flint. "Shacklebolt says we can continue the questioning, but everybody's to get a Confidentum spell after we're done."

Flint grimaced in disgust. "You're joking."

"Fraid not, John," said Auror Two. "Shacklebolt'll decide what else to do after we're done here, but there were five of us in the room when he said it and at least three others who know now. It's no' to protect Malfoy, it's to protect Potter's privacy."

"You all right, Malfoy?" asked the overweight Auror curiously, and Draco wondered what had prompted the question. Wondered if he looked as nauseated as he felt. Whether that was just due to his standard reaction to Veritaserum, or whether it was due to Flint's questions, he didn't know, but he did know that there was no way he wanted to tell anybody else what Flint had been asking and making him say and _fuck_ , his mouth was opening to answer the question anyway.

"No."

"Think he's thirsty," said Flint quickly. "You thirsty, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded in relief. "Yes."

"Get him some water," Auror One said absently, flipping through a sheaf of parchments he'd brought in with him. "O'Brian, go head," he said, nodding at Auror Two.

"When did you start dating Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"May 2."

"How did that come about?"

Draco sighed and just let the answers come, letting everything, bad and good, tumble out. As with all his previous interrogations, this was just a bloody waste of time, and so bloody humiliating. And as always, it had nothing to do with anything remotely threatening to anybody. But the Aurors had to do their jobs, protecting the public from dangerous offenders like him. And Draco supposed that in this instance, asking about Draco's relationship to Harry, and Alec, and the Weasleys, was all part of protecting the public - which, after all, included Harry and Alec and the Weasleys.

But God, how useless, going through the printouts of his e-mails to and from Harry, trying to pin down exactly where they'd gone and who in the wizarding world Draco had been in contact with... pointless, all of it. They'd already asked the relevant questions regarding today's incident: why had he performed the Obliviate, had he performed any other spells, brewed any potions, had he used any magical objects. And he'd answered them truthfully. The rest of this was just covering their arses in case anybody asked.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he reminded himself. Maybe this could help him stay out of Azkaban. Give him the chance to give the Aurors reasons to trust him.

He answered the questions, mechanically, struggling to keep the fear out of his mind.

"After the e-mails exchanged between June tenth and twelfth, you went to see Potter by yourself, then?"

"Yes. Alec's grandparents had Alec, and Kara had Ben. We spent the weekend together."

"It looks here like you were canceling your plans. You wrote 'Sorry, playdate's off,' and then 'Too bad. Maybe next weekend.' That sounds as though you weren't meeting each other that weekend."

"Yes."

"That was deliberate, then?"

"Yes. But it wasn't untrue. We never said _we_ weren't getting together; just that the children weren't going to have a playdate."

Auror Two nodded expressionlessly and moved on.

And Azkaban kept crowding into his head between questions. Azkaban, with its greyness, its cold and hunger and boredom. Too many chances to regret everything he had ever done wrong in his life, burn over every unfairness he'd endured, too many chances to become the person he'd been when he'd finally left it - angry, cynical, bitter.

He still woke up with nightmares of Azkaban, of the inexorable death of his soul, crushed down by grey and cold and cruelty and indifference. Crushed by being treated as less than human, until it was impossible to not think of himself as less than human too. And now his nightmares just might be coming true.

Hold on to the good things, he reminded himself.

"Potter's family all know about you and him, then?"

"Yes."

"What do they think?"

He answered, imagining Ben's eyes and his smile, his small brown hand in Draco's, his trust and love. Harry's warmth and scent, Harry's arms around him. Alec's music touching his soul, his bright green eyes looking up to Draco with admiration and love.

And then he stopped thinking of them, because that just brought a wave of terror at the thought of never seeing any of them again.

Just be numb. Answer the questions. The times and dates and places they'd gone today and shops he'd visited and the things they'd bought-

"How d'you feel about Mr. Potter?"

"I'm in love with him." Oh shit.

He felt his heart stop as the room fell into stunned silence again, and a rushing, sick feeling spread through him like a flash flood.

It had just come out. He'd never thought it, never let himself think about it - it was part of a little box labeled "do not open," because they were just seeing how it went, and seeing where things led them, and seeing where they ended up, and a million euphemisms for Not Serious Yet and yet here he was and he'd said it and it had to be true, and the first time he'd said it - or even thought it - it was in a room for of hostile, suspicious strangers.

He kept his eyes on the floor, clenching his hands to stop their shaking.

There was a rustle from the Aurors. Somebody cleared his throat.

"He's found a way around the Veritaserum," said O'Brian finally.

Draco opened his eyes, meeting Auror One's gaze.

"I dinna think so," said Auror One slowly, his eyes calculating. "He never has before."

"That we know of," pointed out the overweight Auror.

"He's already answered a great many things that I'm sure he would've kept quiet about if he could have," said Auror One.

"Come on," said O'Brian uneasily. "The Malfoys have always been pretty clever at figuring out-"

"Not this one." The man pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You're in love with Potter, then?"

"Yes," Draco said, his voice hollow.

"Since when?"

Draco shook his head helplessly.

"Did you even know you were?"

"No."

"Yeah, looks like it surprised you as much as us," said Auror One, and for a split second there was the tiniest glimmer of sympathy in his voice.

"Jake, come on-" O'Brian began, and Auror One stood up.

"All right, let's go, another conference," he said. He glanced at the younger of the two Ministry aides who had joined them after the last conference. "Ellis, stay here with Flint."

Flint was staring at Draco steadily as the others filed out.

"In love with him, yeah?" he said as the door finally closed.

Numb. Just stay numb.

"Yes."

"When did you figure it out?"

"Just now."

"How's it feel?"

"Horrible."

Flint gave a short, humourless laugh. "Really? Why?"

"I didn't know. I didn't want to - it wasn't supposed to happen."

"Flint," said Ellis nervously. "I dinna think you're supposed to keep interrogating him when Garritt's no' here..."

"This isn't interrogating. This is just a little chat."

"But..."

"Look, Jake Garritt is a fine Auror, but I think he's been working too long with this piece of shit," Flint said, his voice grim. "He's started to feel sorry for him. So he's not going to ask any of the tough questions. You heard him. Nothing that'll embarrass Malfoy, nothing that might embarrass the great Harry Potter either." He leaned forward, staring at Draco. "I know this bastard, though." Draco frowned, blinking at him. Now that Flint mentioned it, he did look vaguely familiar, but Draco couldn't place him at all. "You wouldn't remember me. My brother's Marcus Flint. Your Captain on the Slytherin Quidditch team."

Draco's eyebrows went up.

"Yeah, I was leaving school as you were coming in, and I was in Hufflepuff, so I doubt you'd remember me, but Marcus had stories about you. Said you were an arrogant brat and a whiny little shit." He smiled grimly. "So. Tell me, why wasn't this supposed to happen?"

"Because I didn't want it to," Draco said, his heart sinking. Oh God, no. No, this was - he couldn't - this was too bloody painful and raw to deal with it with Flint. He pressed down panic, focussing all his will on his answers in a desperate ploy to keep Flint at bay until the others came back-

"And why is that?"

"A lot of reasons."

"Such as?"

"We live in different cities."

Flint frowned. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"You're worried about commuting?" He chuckled derisively. "What else?"

"We're both single parents. It's complicated."

Flint's eyebrows went up, then he looked amused. "You can't fight Veritaserum, mate."

"I can try," Draco ground out.

"John-" Ellis began.

"See, Ellis, he's trying to keep his answers true, but vague and evasive. It's the only way you can hope to beat Veritaserum. It's a cinch to break through, though." He smirked. "What's your mother's maiden name?"

"Black."

"Who was your first friend?"

"Dobby."

"Who was your first fuck?"

"Theo Nott."

"Why didn't you want to fall in love with Harry Potter?"

"Because I shouldn't be with him in the first place," Draco said helplessly, "and I feel guilty enough about that, never mind actually falling in love with him."

Flint smiled, pleased. "Yeah? Why not?"

"Because I have to think of my son."

"See, it's all in keeping them off-balance," Flint said to Ellis, "so they can't even hope to control their answers." He turned back to Draco. "Your son? What does your son have to do with you falling for Potter?"

"Ben's... he's the one thing I've done right in my life," he said, and felt a wave of despair as his eyes filled with tears. "I can't mess that up."

Flint gave a harsh laugh. "The one thing you've done right? He's the half-blood bastard of a poofter exile, who doesn't even live with his mother. If that's not bad enough, I've heard that in the Muggle world being black is almost as bad as a Death Eater or a half-blood in our world. Why should it make any difference what else you do to bugger up his life?"

Ellis made a small noise of protest but continued to look away from them, lips pressed together and arms crossed.

"He's happy and he's healthy and he's safe. And he's not touched by any of this."

"'This'? You mean... the wizarding world and your special relationship to it?"

Draco nodded.

"Why would falling in love with Potter mess up-" Flint broke off. "Ah yes, if you hadn't fallen for Potter, you wouldn't have been spending so much time in the wizarding world, and you probably wouldn't have run into the fine citizens you ran into this afternoon, and you wouldn't be sitting here knowing that you're probably never going to see your son again. Right?"

Draco drew in his breath as a tear spilled down his cheek, and he looked away from Flint's mocking sneer.

Ben's eyes. His eyes as he watched cuffs go around Draco's wrists. Clinging to Harry as Draco was taken away. His small face going blank, as his memory of his very first day in the wizarding world was utterly wiped out. His excitement at seeing magical instruments, singing with Alec before a small audience of wizards, eating charmed sweets, going to broom shop with Harry - all gone. And all because Draco had been an irresponsible idiot and let himself believe in hope, and in Harry.

"So what did you expect, when you started to go out with Potter? Were you just looking for a babysitter for your son, with some casual fucking on the side?"

Draco shook his head. "I didn't know what to expect," he said hoarsely, an ache in his chest.

"Ever been in love before?"

"No."

"What bothers you more?" Flint asked, his voice softly mocking. "Being away from your son, or losing your one true love?"

"My son."

"Not exactly the romance fairy tales are made of, then? Why's that?"

"You don't have children, do you?" Draco asked, and Flint shook his head. "Your child comes first, no matter who you're in love with."

"Oh please." Flint rolled his eyes. "Harry Potter's a bad lay, then, right?"

"No."

"How d'you do him? On his hands and knees?"

"Flint!" said Ellis, going red.

"Sometimes." Ellis was looking away now, and Draco thought distantly that he should probably feel more shocked and embarrassed at his sex life being used for amusement before another witness, but at least it was better than talking about how he'd failed Ben.

Flint grinned. "Really. What about on his back?"

"Yes."

"He ever fuck you?"

"No."

"So he's the girl, then, and you're the boy. Wouldn't've have pictured that. And him used to be married and all."

"He's not the girl," Draco said impatiently. "It's just how we've worked things so far."

Flint tilted his head curiously. "You ever been buggered by anybody else?"

"No."

"Ever fucked anybody else, other than Theo Nott?"

"A few Muggles."

"Why didn't any of them do you?"

"I didn't want them to."

"Why not?"

"Didn't trust them enough."

"Why not?"

"They're Muggles," he said, squirming a bit at his own tone as Flint shot Ellis a smirking "See? Told you so" kind of look. Ellis's eyes narrowed and he stared at Draco, his sympathy for Draco very clearly waning.

This part of an interrogation was always so bloody embarrassing. He'd trained himself to feel comfortable around Muggles, and honestly wasn't a danger to any of them, but he would probably never be able to trust them as much as he trusted wizards and there wasn't much he could do about it. With his upbringing, he reminded himself, just being able consider them human had been a major accomplishment. And there was nothing for it but to just ride out the questions, try not to react to the inevitable glee of Aurors who thought they'd be able to embarrass him with his own involuntary prejudices, and hope it ended soon.

"Don't like 'em, still, do you?" Flint said.

"I like many of them," he shot back.

"Don't trust 'em, though."

"No."

"Kneazles don't change their spots," Flint gave Ellis a smirk. "Still feeling sorry for him, Ellis?" Ellis looked away. "See, Ellis here is a Muggle-born. One step up from pond scum according to your lot."

"I don't believe any of that any more," Draco said, and pressed his lips together.

Flint rolled his eyes. "Oh that's right, you're all reformed and new and improved," he sneered. "So how'd you end up with a son with one of them, then? And a woman, too. Was that on purpose, or did you just get confused?"

Draco sighed. "It happened because of a Wiccan ceremony."

"A what?"

"Muggle religious ritual. It's all in my records."

"You mean I can read about it? So I don't have to waste precious minutes asking you. That means I can ask other things, then." Flint sat back. "So, what's Potter say when he's on his back?"

The junior Auror flinched and touched Flint's arm. "John, that's really-"

"Shut up," Flint said, not taking his eyes off Draco. "Answer the question."

Draco closed his eyes, answering mechanically, trying to take himself away. Far away, where it didn't matter that Flint was asking, and Draco answering, all these questions. Draining his memories of their magic. Reducing the thrill and the joy and, yes, the love in them to Flint's idle curiosity, Draco's helpless recitation, and Ellis' mortified witness.

He kept his gaze averted as Flint skimmed the printout of the e-mails between him and Harry, the notes the other Aurors had made of their relationship, seeing which weekends they'd been together. As he asked Draco times, places, and Draco answered, and the questions kept coming, and Ellis squirmed in embarrassment as Flint forced Draco to retell moment by moment the first time he and Harry had kissed. The first time Draco had gone down on Harry and they'd been interrupted by Alec having a nightmare. The first time they'd had sex. The second time. The third time...

"How's he suck you?"

"What's he sound like when you suck him?"

"Which position d'you like the most?"

"What d'you use for lube?"

"Did he bleed the first time you fucked him?"

Just separate yourself from this, Draco told himself. Don't let it touch you. You're not really here.

Which had never helped much during other questioning sessions. And it wasn't helping all that much now.

"So, done anything else? Anything more... adventurous?"

"Like what?" Draco asked warily.

"S&M, rimming, fisting - you must know, you were a Death Eater. They were into all kinds of sick amusements, weren't they?"

"No."

"How about bondage? Blindfolds?"

"We've blindfolded each other."

"Ooh, kinky."

Not really. It's just a way to concentrate on other senses. But he didn't say it out loud, and Flint moved on, and he answered-

And he hadn't said it out loud, the part about blindfolding.

Oh thank God. The serum was starting to fade. Hopefully he could keep that fact from Flint for a little while.

"So, you like giving it to the hero of the wizarding world?"

"Yes."

"Sex with a famous man. Does that turn you on, his fame?"

"No."

"What does turn you on?"

"Magic."

"The fact that he can do magic?"

"Yes."

"What turns you on about it?"

"It's magic. I've been cut off from it for a long time. I needed it back."

"So now you've got it back. Or you did, before this last little stunt." He chuckled. "Have any fantasies about him?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

"Mostly just about things we've already done."

"How inspiring. Not terribly imaginative, are you?"

"We're not together all that often. I... miss him."

"Anything kinkier? Role-plays, things like that?"

"Not really." None that Flint needed to know about, anyway.

"Ever acted out any fantasies?"

Bugger. Now that he had the chance to lie, he really couldn't take it. He felt an almost overwhelming urge tell Flint nothing but rubbish, and then somehow have it come back and bite him in the arse, wanted to see Flint's face when he realized Draco had been lying, but he couldn't. He couldn't afford to. He couldn't make any enemies. What if some day all that stood between Draco and freedom, Draco and being able to return to Ben, was what they asked the Aurors who had been present today, and they talked to Flint?

"No."

"Let's go back to the blindfolding. Who suggested it?"

"He did."

"Really. Trusting soul, isn't he?"

"With me? Yes, he is," Draco said mildly.

"Aw, he trusts you. Think he feels the same way about you that you feel about him?"

"I... I don't know," Draco said, his voice low.

Flint smirked. "So, you want him to tell you he's in love with you too? You dream about him getting romantic, maybe getting down on one knee..."

All right, that was it. Enough was enough.

He started to open his mouth, then stopped. He blinked, put a startled expression on his face.

"Well?" said Flint impatiently.

"I... I think it's gone."

"What's gone?"

"The effect of the Veritaserum." He looked away from Flint, keeping his tone and expression as non-confrontational as possible. "It's out of my system."

"What?"

"I don't feel like I have to answer anything."

Flint squinted at him suspiciously. "What's your mother's maiden name?"

"Longbottom," Draco said flatly. "I told you, it's out of my system. I can lie again."

Flint sat back, annoyed. And Draco was struck once again by the thought that Flint wasn't evil. This wasn't even personal to him. He'd just been bored, and looking to have some fun, and now he looked a bit like Ben did when Draco took away one of his toys.

"All right, Flint and Ellis," said Auror One - Garritt, apparently - coming back into the room, skimming through a parchment. "Take Malfoy to the cells, then come rejoin us, we're going to be in the conference room..." he trailed off, scrolling down the parchment.

"What about the interrogation?" asked Flint, and Garritt glanced up at him absently.

"What? Oh, that. Yeah, we'll probably finish that later. Just get him booked and locked up for now." He started back out the door. "Don't forget to put an extra guard on him, yeah?"

Wait, stop, Draco wanted to ask. Am I going back to Azkaban? For how long? Can I contact my son? What's happened to him? Can I speak to a lawyer? Where's my wand? Did you snap it like you snapped my first wand? Can I contact Harry?

And there was no point in asking any of them. Nobody would answer; prisoners weren't entitled to answers. He stood up as Flint vanished the bindings holding him to the chair.

"Oh, Flint, strict prisoner transfer protocol," said Garritt, popping his head back into the room, and Flint waved his wand. Cuffs appeared around Draco's wrists, and shackles on his ankles.

"Let's go, then," Flint said to Ellis, nodding at him to precede Flint and Draco through the door. Not bothering to speak to or look at Draco.

Draco wasn't a person any more. He'd provided some amusement for Flint, but that was over now, and now Draco was merely a package to be delivered to the holding cells.

He'd acted in self-defence, Draco reminded himself as he was led down to the cells. He'd not caused any permanent damage, and he'd had good reasons for casting the spell he'd cast. And Harry would help. He might even be able to get others to help him - Granger and Weasley had seemed to like Ben well enough, and from what Harry had said, they had slowly come to accept Draco himself. Grudgingly, but they accepted him. Maybe they might help get him out of here soon.

And what if they didn't? What if all of this broke on the front pages of the Prophet, and Ben was targeted, and Draco's own life was exposed, and Harry himself got publicity? Harry hated publicity with a passion, and he would have to face it all without Draco there to help him, and without Draco there to counteract whatever other people said about him, or them. Without Draco there to remind Harry why they were together, despite what anybody else thought, despite what Harry's own family thought-

Oh God, the bloody Weasleys. Harry would no doubt be around them more than he had been in the last few months. He'd hear what they thought about the situation, hear what they thought of Draco, and all without Draco there to remind Harry of why they were together.

And what would happen if Draco came back to find Harry had changed his mind? That he was finally going to listen to the Weasleys, and break it off?

He took a deep breath. Well, then, he and Ben would just go back to the way they had been before. It didn't matter. They'd been happy enough before Harry; they'd be all right.

And that wasn't agony, clawing away at him at the thought of that.

"Right, in you go," Flint said, shoving him into the cell. He waved his wand and Draco's shackles and cuffs and clothing disappeared, and Flint gave him one last smirk over his shoulder and left him alone in the cell.

Oh God, Harry, please, Get me out of here, Draco thought desperately. Raise a big stink, use your influence, I don't care. Just get me out of here.

And take care of Ben. Please. Whether you get me out or not, take care of Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scrtkpr also wrote "And ooooh! Oooooh! How about the first time Draco realizes he's in love with Harry? Draco POV, for obvious reasons. :D"
> 
> Um, done ;)


	2. Weasley v. Weasley, November 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the last Ember to Ember DVD Extras written, but second in chronological order in the story. It sat like a quivering pile of jelly for many moons, until I got into a Fredless George kick and Fred eventually politely asked to be written not-dead for once. Not sure he'd appreciate the treatment he gets in this ficbit, but still. Undead Not-Dead Fred.
> 
> This DVD Extra is for Lisa3353, who said, "I would love to read the scene between Fred and Anne (you have me on a Fred kick now) when he confronts her about sending Draco's picture to the paper." It takes place post-November, immediately after the incident where Harry confronts Fred about the same picture, believing Fred took it.
> 
> Thank you so much, maya231, for great beta, a long, long time ago ;)

**November 23**

Fred emerged from the Floo to the sound of children shouting and Anne's voice raised, and he blew out his breath in irritation. Right. He had just sent Michelle home for turning one of Wheezes' Silly Spiders into a gigantic hulking blood-drenched teddy bear, scaring the pants off her little brother. It seemed like a long time ago.

"What is the matter with you?" Anne was yelling, and Michelle's answer couldn't be heard. "You will apologize now!" Anne shouted.

"He's a stupid little shit!" Michelle shouted back, and Fred could feel his blood pressure rising, anger at both of them threatening to boil over fairly spectacularly. He put his wand down on the counter, not particularly wanting to destroy anything if his magic went a little wild. Acting like an adult might not be one of his top priorities most days, but he preferred to show a little more control over his temper and magic than a petulant teenager.

Pity Harry was still unable to do the same. Well, that was Harry. Wallowing in immaturity. Didn't mean Fred had to do the same. He absently rubbed his jaw where Harry had just punched him.

Tea. Tea might be a good idea, a good way to rein in his almost overwhelming desire to go upstairs right now, send the kids away, and have it out with Anne over the picture in The Prophet. He was far too angry to think clearly, and didn't particularly want to deliberately pick a fight; his fights with Anne sometimes left all four of them scared for days.

He started to search for tea. Nothing. Bugger. Now he remembered; Michelle had Transfigured it all into tiny yodeling frogs. Anne had not been amused.

Robbie wandered into the kitchen, still red-eyed and sniffling from the fright he'd suffered, and Fred made himself give his son a comforting smile. "Come here, Robbie," he said, and sat down, taking his son onto his lap. Robbie hugged him close, and Fred smiled and tickled him, making him giggle and drowning out the sound of Anne and Michelle still fighting - and settling his own turbulent emotions as well.

Different as night and day, his kids. Michelle reminded him a lot of himself and George; weird to see all of that energy and mischief in one body. And Robbie was so sweet and devoid of any hint of toughness or hostility - a bit like Alec, actually - that Fred sometimes feared for him. It was a good thing he and Michelle were far enough apart in age that they seldom played together. Which was also weird. It was like they were raising two only children. Having grown up smack in the middle of a litter of kids, it was disorienting.

Robbie's giggling died down fairly quickly. He was evidently still worn out from crying over the prank Michelle had played on him, and it was far past his naptime. Fred smiled down at him as he fell asleep in Fred's arms.

He was a lot like Alec, actually. Gentle, and sweet, and needing so much more protection than Fred could possibly give him. Although at least all Robbie had to be protected from so far was his older sister, and occasionally his parent's fights. Not bloody _Death Eaters._

Dismissing that thought, he got up and carried Robbie to his bed.

He came back into the kitchen and there was Anne, sitting at the kitchen table with her hand covering her eyes. The fragile peace Fred had found in Robbie's sleepy weight on his lap disappeared.

"Oh thank God. I've got a headache," said Anne, Fred's normal cue to bring her her headache potion. He tossed The Prophet onto the table instead.

"What's this?" asked Anne, taking the paper. Her eyebrows shot up. "Good Lord. That's Harry," she said, looking closer. "Bloody hell. When did this come out?"

"This morning," said Fred evenly.

"Has Harry seen it?"

"Yeah. He showed it to me. Thought I'd taken it."

Anne blinked. "Good Lord. That's... a little paranoid," she said, amused.

"Is it?"

She blinked again. "Did you?" She peered at him a little closer, frowning, then lifted a hand to his face. "What happened to your--"

"You bloody well know I didn't take it," Fred said evenly, moving his head back and ignoring her half-spoken question.

"What?"

"Anne."

She narrowed her eyes. "You think I did this?" she asked incredulously, looking back at the picture of Harry and Draco embracing on the cover of the Prophet. "How dare you--"

"He was wearing a NewFace amulet," Fred interrupted.

"The Aurors have the countercharm for that, Fred," Anne said scornfully. "You gave it to them yourself."

"Not the ones for the new line."

Anne blinked. "What?"

"He was wearing the amulets we haven't put on the market yet. And all our counter-charms in the lab are for the new versions. Not for the ones Aurors already have."

Anne's mouth dropped open.

"You _bitch_ ," said Fred softly. "You were going to lie to me."

Anne's eyes flashed with anger, and she raised in chin defiantly. "Oh don't act so surprised," she sneered. "Would you have told me the truth? If you'd done it?"

" _Why?_ " Fred asked, striving to keep his cool.

Anne glared at him. "Ginny was the first person in your entire family other than George who was actually decent to me," she said grimly. "And I am _not_ going to let her son be brought up around the kind of filth I had to grow up with."

Fred pressed his lips together. "Look, I know it was rough for you but--"

"You have no fucking clue," she interrupted with a bitter laugh. "You were surrounded by people who were all working on the side of the precious Light, and you have no idea what it's like, being around that kind of poison. I won't allow it, not for Ginny's son!"

"It's not up to you - or me! I don't want him brought up around Malfoy either but-"

"I have had just about enough of you and your little clan's insufferable nobility," Anne said through gritted teeth. "Oh, we all care so much about Alec! We all want what's best for Alec--"

"We do!"

"And poor, dear Harry, he's one of the family - well he's shown exactly how much he thinks of the all-important family, hasn't he?"

"Anne--"

"And don't you _dare_ argue with me! You hypocrite, you _know_ I'm right!"

Fred pressed his lips together. Yes, he knew. He knew very well.

"You know I'm right and you're completely incapable of doing anything about it!" Anne said angrily.

"This wasn't the right thing to do!"

"And what are you doing? What have _any_ of you done? Your own brother's had Malfoy in his home, with his own kids. Had Malfoy's _son_ playing with his own boys. D'you want that?"

"That kid is not to blame for--"

"That kid! Is that kid more important to you than Alec? Than Ginny? Do you even remember what you swore to him the day he was born?"

Fred's jaw clenched as he glared at Anne, trying to push away the nightmare memories of that night. The shock of realizing their sister was dying; the desperation with which Hermione and the Healers tried to save her; the first sight of Alec paling before the ache of knowing that Ginny was really gone. The way it felt like there wasn't enough air in the room, wasn't any way to come to terms with the fact that Ginny would never see the tiny baby nursing at Fleur's breast.

"You fucking hypocrite," said Anne, her voice low. "You and George both, you say you loved her, you promised to be there for her son, and now you're betraying her memory. You might as well piss on her grave. She was a fighter, she hated Malfoy and all he stood for! She can't defend her son, so it's up to you! To us!"

"Anne, for fuck's sake, it's not that simple!"

"It is _very_ simple. The only problem is, you don't want to get your hands dirty, and you want to make nice. I take it our precious Widdle Hawwy got upset?"

"Fucking furious is more like it. Can't say I blame him - you know how he feels about publicity--"

"And he gave you that, didn't he?" Anne said, gesturing at Fred's jaw and laughing derisively. "Well let him try that shit on me!"

Fred shook his head angrily even as he admired her fire and spirit. Anne was beautiful when she got like this; like fireworks, but far more dangerous and unpredictable. Not for the first time, he briefly wondered what life would've been like if he'd chosen a wife like George's, someone who could be counted on to bring serenity and reason into difficult situations, instead of Anne, who continually forced him into the role of rational peacemaker. Not exactly his forte.

"In fact, let him try right now!" Anne headed for the Floo. "I'll tell him--"

"You are not going to tell him anything!" Fred said, grabbing Anne's arm.

"Fuck you!!" Anne spat, wrenching herself away, and started for the Floo again.

"Don't you dare, you _bitch_!" She stopped short and gaped at him. "You are not going to tell anybody. George knows, and Demelza will soon, but nobody else will know that it was you and not me. Nobody."

"I don't need your noble Gryffindor chivalry--"

"Fuck chivalry!" Fred snapped. "I won't put up with my mother shunning you; I'm not putting the kids through that."

"Your dear sainted mother can go fuck herself! Self-righteous old cow! If she's going to hold it against me that I'm trying to protect her grandson when the rest of you won't raise a finger, she can--"

"Mum?" Michelle's voice was frightened as she spoke from outside the kitchen door.

"Don't, we're not doing this," Fred said, anger and fear warring for dominance now.

Anne tossed her head back. "You bloody coward. Not doing what? Not going to face a few hard truths? Not going to--"

"Not going to leave our kids crying again!" Fred snapped.

"Dad, what--"

"Michelle, go to your room!"

"Protecting the kiddies, are you?" Anne sneered. "You'll protect ours from hearing their parents disagree, but it's all right to leave Ginny's son alone and not protect him from a Death Eater? From being taught all sorts of--"

"Mum--"

"Shut up, Michelle!" they both shouted, and Anne went on grimly, "Your Dad's being a bit of a prick right now--"

Fred quickly grabbed his wand and flicked it, taking Anne's wand away, casting a Mufliato spell on them and a Cheering Charm at Michelle, then Banishing both wands to a locked cupboard.

Anne spluttered, livid fury making her colour rise even higher. "You have no right!" she shrieked at him. "No bloody right!"

"D'you want her to have nightmares again? Do you remember the last time we had a fight?!"

Briefly he saw uncertainty on Anne's face, but she was too far gone to stop now, and Fred braced himself for the onslaught, thanking Merlin he'd thought to send their wands out of the room as Anne tore into him and dredged up every single fucking problem they'd ever had in their entire marriage and he had no idea if it was a Slytherin thing or a woman thing, but it was bloody unbelievable how she could remember and throw into his face everything, _everything_ he'd ever done wrong. Not just his failure to protect Alec, but his long hours at the shop, his overwhelming, loud, self-righteous family, his refusal to take on defence magic contracts that would make more money for the shop, insisting instead on concentrating mainly on the joke stuff he and George loved, and while she was at it she took a few swipes at his constantly putting his twin ahead of his wife--

"Oh for fuck's sake, Anne," he snapped, tired of biting his lip till it bled. "Don't bloody well start that shit again!"

"You wouldn't know loyalty to our family if it flew up and bit you in the arse--"

"I fucking well would," he retorted. "I said as much to George, while I was busy defending what _you did_ to him--"

"Why thank you, my most noble protector," she sneered and he had had enough.

This didn't even have anything to do with Harry or Malfoy any more, he was able to think in the brief space between one savage verbal attack and another, both of them holding little back as Anne ripped in to him over his mixed signals to their daughter - the unmistakable admiration he felt for her spirit making it difficult to discipline her - as well as his supposed neglect of their son, and he flung back at her his disgust at her amazing ability to hold on to every grudge and grievance, and her charming Slytherin dishonesty, and her constant whining about missing her Charms work, despite the fact that she'd agreed she'd leave her career on hold while the kids were little, and--

"Just because I'm not the home-loving saint your mother is," she sneered, "not a devoted little housewitch like the rest of your brothers' wives, they fucking well make me _sick_ , the lot of them--"

"Well if my family's too much for you, why don't you go back to yours then, Anne? Oh I forgot - they're almost all still in Azkaban, aren't they?"

Anne's eyes widened slightly in real pain, and as she opened her mouth for a furious retort Fred brought himself up short.

 _Fuck_ , that had been over the line.

"All right, that's enough," he said tightly. "Going now."

Anne's eyes narrowed again. "Fine, get out, you fucking coward," she sneered. "And stay out!" she shouted as he moved to the Floo. He bit his lip to keep from lashing back, and stepped into the flames, calling out George's Floo address.

George looked up from the small aqua-blue boy wriggling on his lap and sighed as Fred stepped out of the Floo. He nodded at Demelza, who got up from the couch and picked up the little boy - Graham? Frank? Fred could never tell, and the blue colour didn't help - and started to head off with a small smile at Fred. She paused, frowning, and flicked her wand at him. Fred felt warmth on his face - healing charm, no doubt - as she headed off to her sons' nursery.

"D-didn't go well?" George said dryly.

"Went smashingly."

"Literally?"

"Didn't break anything this time," said Fred tightly, struggling to clear the anger coursing through him.

"Staying the n-night?"

"Surprised?" said Fred.

George simply clapped him on the back comfortingly. "Demelza'll s-send an owl t-to Anne," he said.

Fred nodded. Business as usual; whether she agreed with Anne or not, "Wives of twins need to stick together," Demelza always said, and maybe it was true. Fred even knew what she'd likely write, having seen her notes before:

_He's here, don't worry. We'll send him home in the morning. Hope you're doing all right. Love, D._

Funny how Anne had never had to send one of these owls to Demelza. For all he knew, Demelza might even wholly agree with Anne right now; she'd had more than a few things to say to George when this whole mess with Malfoy started, so many months ago. And yet somehow George never ended up sleeping on Fred's couch.

Fred sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was just not on. Not any more. Their kids couldn't keep being exposed to this kind of shit. It wasn't healthy. It had been different, before kids - it had even been a bit exciting, in a way; for one thing, the make-up sex was incredible. But now...

There had to be some way through this. Some way to balance the needs of his marriage with the need to not push Alec and Harry away, while still protecting Alec from Malfoy...

Fucking Malfoys, he thought bitterly. Hurting Fred's family, business as usual. It wasn't enough that Lucius Fucking Malfoy had almost killed Ginny as a kid and almost destroyed George. It wasn't enough that the junior version had wrecked Bill's face, now he had to come in and hurt not just Harry's kid, but Fred's kids as well. Azkaban was too good for him, he thought grimly as he followed George into the kitchen.

And bloody hell, right now? Fred wished with all his heart that he _had_ taken the bloody picture.


End file.
